Flames of Power
by YAJJ
Summary: A collection of one-shots mostly about our favorite Flame Alchemist that will probably have nothing to do with each other. Will take suggestions. Chapter 4: Daddy's Little Girl. Moar of the gender-bended Edward stuff. Anyway, Edwina has had two fathers in her life. And how badly it hurts her to see them both go. Based off of the song Daddy's Little Girl by Frankie J.
1. First Date

Flames of Power

**A/N: So, this is going to be the first in a long line of one-shots. I'm doing this mostly for your (the readers) enjoyment. At the moment, I'm working on a gigantic project of mine about chimeras. It will be FMA related, and better yet, it will be Chimera!Roy, because like NO ONE writes those. It should be deep and epic, and I won't be posting it until the first of the year, 2013.**

**Anyway, what I wanted to say was that this is almost like an apology to y'all. I'm sorry that I won't be updating any of my other stories, probably, for a long, long time. My main focus will be my big project, and these one-shots. Several of these one-shots have already been finished, or at least nearly finished, so it won't be such a stretch to work on those and my story... so yeah, that's what I'll be doing.**

**This will be updated every Monday. I've already got a schedule written out that I will try to keep to, that goes all of the way through until December 10th, so if I miss one, I have no excuse. Sorry! Even though it's already late... so I'm a little busy, sue me! ...Except don't. I'm a lowly high school senior who can't even afford to properly go to college. :( None of the others should be late... Promise...**

**Most of these one-shots will be about Roy, because Roy is my buddy, so I wouldn't expect much else if I were you. Some will be AU, some will be written in animeverse, and some in mangaverse. Some will be parental!Roy-ness, some will be Royai, some will be brotherly!Roy-ness... this thing will have variety. Expect variety. **

**Kay, that is all. **

ONE-SHOT 01: First Date

_Summary_: All Roy wants to do his protects his daughter, but some douchebag is making it awful hard to do that. Fem!Ed. Parental!RoyxEd

_Rating_: K+ - T

* * *

Roy was normally a calm and collected person—he went with the flow, and not much bothered him if it came as a shock.

Apparently, that 'not much' didn't entail to anything that had to do with his daughter—erm, his youngest subordinate.

It was a day like any other day. The sun shone, the birds chirped, and Fullmetal still acted as though she owned the whole place, striding in with a confident smirk not unlike Roy's own.

The girl was abnormally happy, though. Roy noted that much. Her smirk slipped more than once into an excited smile the moment that she thought he wasn't looking, even though he secretly had one eye on her as she sat, waiting for him to read her report. She hadn't slammed the door open or closed when she came in, and she had only yelled a little when Roy teased her about her minimal height.

Something was up. And Roy didn't like it.

Finally, after the chance to watch her had gotten ridiculously long and she couldn't have been completely oblivious, Roy pulled the sheet of paper out from the top of his pile of paperwork and started reading, tumbling through the parts where Edwina's apparently excited attitude had jumbled the words into a big mixing pot and dumped them onto the page in the most nonsensical manner possible.

He was halfway through the report when Edwina started bouncing. The couch dipped a bit under her weight and then sprung up, squeaking every other second and slowly driving Roy absolutely bonkers.

"Do you mind?!" Roy demanded after a while, glaring at the girl who had given up on her smirk and just smiled his way.

"No," she said.

Roy scowled, not looking away. "What's gotten into you today?" he asked her.

Edwina flinched and blushed, but her smile didn't dampen any. "Nothin'."

"Mhmm." Roy continued glaring at her to see if she would fold, but she didn't. He shook his head. "As long as I can't read your report anyway, where's Al?"

Ed shrugged, scratching a hand through her bangs. "The dorms. He's waiting for my date to call because he's been calling all the time and Al's getting kind of annoyed by it—" Ed slapped a hand over her mouth, offering a wry grin to the man.

"Date?" Roy asked, amused. That's what Ed had been afraid to tell him? About a little date? "You're going on a date?"

Ed nodded sheepishly, tucking her hands beneath her thighs as she watched for Roy's reaction.

Slowly, it dawned on him. Ed, his little girl, was going on a date. One that he'd only been informed of by accident. He had no idea who the ne'er-do-well was, or what exactly he had in store for Edwina! He barely spluttered out his next words, "you're going on a DATE?!"

Ed flinched again. "This is why I didn't tell you! I knew you'd act like this!" she said. She crossed her arms, muttering "douche" to herself.

Roy forced himself to calm. He sighed, burying his face in one hand. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Like hell I'll tell you! You'd go and find him and castrate him right now!" Ed cried.

Damn, that girl knew him too well. He clenched his fists and sighed. "Do I know him?" he demanded.

"No. He asked me the other day when Al and I went to the park."

"And you just said _YES_?! Without knowing anything about him?" How stupid could that girl be?

"I was going to turn him down, but Al said that I should go have fun! I didn't just agree on a _whim_, Mustang! Goddamn!"

Roy stood, fisting his hair. "When is it?" he asked.

"Tonight, why?"

Roy's scowl melted momentarily. "I'll be there to meet him," he decided icily.

"No, you won't! You're not my fucking father, Mustang! I can take care of myself!" Ed snarled. She stood as well. "You know what? I'm going home! Go ahead and finish my goddamn report by yourself! I don't care what you have to say about it!" She spun on her heel and kicked the door open, fuming. She slammed it shut directly after, marching back down the hallway.

Not a minute after, Hawkeye opened the door, peeking in. She glared at her superior. "What did you do, Colonel?" she asked.

Roy glared at her momentarily. "She's going on a date. A fucking date!" he snarled.

Hawkeye sighed and rolled her eyes. "Colonel, she's a big girl now. She can take care of herself." She frowned.

"She's fifteen, dammit! That's _way_ too young to be going on dates!" Roy defended himself.

"Because I'm certain that you were completely innocent at fifteen, sir."

"She's a girl! A little girl! It's different!"

Hawkeye shook her head, smiling. "You want to keep your eye on her? Go on. You don't know when the date is. Just bring some paperwork with you."

Roy paused, watching for her bluff. "Ahh…" he gulped and nodded. "Thanks, lieutenant." He uttered. He grabbed his coat, a pile of paperwork, and went out to his car.

* * *

Roy waited outside of Ed and Al's dorm for probably two, maybe three hours. He obediently signed paperwork, but his eyes kept flickering up, waiting for some delinquent to stroll up to the door and push his way into their dorm. He'd be bigger and stronger than Al, swifter than Ed… surely he'd hurt _his_ children.

Well, if the asshole dared try, Roy would be sending a jar full of burnt ashes to his parents.

It was six—he was about half-done with a pile of paperwork that really should have taken an hour total—when a little blue car parked by the sidewalk. The owner honked loudly.

That was about when Roy realized that this douchebag—whoever he was—was Edwina's date.

'Oh, no."

There was _no_ way that the little dickwad who wouldn't even go to the door to pick up his date—awkward as it may have been—was Edwina's date. There was no way that Edwina had been caught in this delinquent's eye, nor that this delinquent had caught Edwina's eye. Ed was smart. She could see the goodness (or lack thereof) in people. There was no way that she could have been fooled by this player.

After a minute or so of patient waiting, the door of the car opened and out wandered a big teen, with broad shoulders and an ugly face. The teen wasn't dressed in anything better than a polo, jeans, and tennis shoes. Disrespectful little punk. This was the Fullmetal fucking Alchemist, for god's sake!

Apparently, Edwina had known that the honk was her date, because she _clipped_ out in low high heels that Roy hadn't had any clue she owned or liked. She, too, had chosen to tone it down a bit, though not quite as much as the bastard in front of her. She, at least, had the decency to wear some good pants and a nice blouse that Roy instantly recognized as one of Hawkeye's from her teenage years.

The boy greeted her, and she enthusiastically replied. The boy put his arm around her waist and immediately started tugging her toward his car.

Oh, _fuck_ no! Roy would go to hell, destroy Satan, and bring back his head on a stake before he allowed Edwina into that boy's car!

The boy touched her chin and lifted it up a little, bringing his face slowly to hers…

"That's it…" Roy couldn't contain himself. He grabbed the door handle and yanked the door open. He could have burned that little fucker's lips right off! And he would have, if Ed wasn't right there in the line of fire. "You stay away from her!"

Ed spluttered and scrambled away from the boy, her face as red as the ripest Aerugan red apple. She glared at him. "M-Mustang!" she growled.

Roy glared in reply, and she shut up. He turned to the ne'er-do-well who would dare try to touch and _kiss_ his little girl. "What do you think you're doing?" he snarled.

"Uh, just picking up my date," the boy replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His voice was rough and gravelly. Roy didn't like it.

"And since when exactly did _picking up your date_ mean attempting to seduce her?"

"Who are you, and what the fuck do you care?" the boy asked.

"You watch your mouth around your elders, punk," snapped Roy, his black eyes burning.

The boy scoffed.

Edwina finally managed to regain control of herself, looking at her commander sternly. "What the hell, colonel? I said no!"

"As if I was about to let you run off with some strange boy that neither you nor I even know!"

"It was one night, bastard! One night to actually enjoy myself! Or am I expecting too much, after everything that I've done? Why don't you just leash me to your wrist so I can follow you like a good dog?!"

"You keep finding fuckers like this kid and I'll do exactly that!"

"Aarrrgh!" Ed lost her cool right there, exploding on her colonel. "I'm not your goddamn daughter, Mustang! And you're not my _father_. And with all of the _good_ that came out of mine, I'd prefer it if you stayed that way! So, quit trying to be Hohenheim and let me live my own life!" she commanded.

Roy winced.

Ed slipped her arm through her date's arm and dragged him toward the car. She didn't even look back at Roy, who stood there still, dumbfounded. "C'mon, Ben. Let's go! The sooner we get away from that bastard, the better!"

When the boy, Ben, climbed into the front seat, Roy shook himself of his stupor. Just before Ben's door slammed shut (what, the bastard didn't even have the decency to hold Ed's door open for her?), Roy called out, "if you hurt her, I will throttle you! I will come into your bedroom and I will burn your fucking eyes right out of your head! Go ahead; try! Don't think I won't!"

Ed looked towards him, before climbing into the car. Roy's heart lifted straight to heaven when he saw Ed's lips curve up in a tiny smile, directed at him. And, if only to preserve that smile forever, he would gladly carry out his threat.

He realized something, though, as the car inched away from the curb and sped down the road toward their destination. He realized that he must have been to hell, and it faintly occurred to him that he might still have that stake. Maybe he could use it to his advantage.

* * *

Roy didn't receive a call that night. He hadn't really been expecting one, but oh how he'd hoped…

Not that Edwina had exactly been elated with him right then.

But still, she could have at least called to say, "Hey, thought you might want to know I'm home," or "please don't carry out that threat, I think I'm in love," (Roy's skin crawled at that thought and he almost gagged), or "you can go ahead and kill that fucker, please do it Roy, I don't want to hear about him ever again…"

But there was no call. Roy almost considered calling Al to see if Ed was home yet, but he didn't want to disturb the boy, or accidentally wake his sister.

So, he waited.

He waited a long time. So long, in fact, that the sun had risen three times before Roy got any sign from the teen how it went.

It was a dreary day that day—the exact contrast to the day that Roy had been told. It was drizzling, and no one was out roaming the streets. It was Monday.

Roy looked up from his paperwork when the door _clicked_ open gently. His eyes widened as he watched Fullmetal gently open the door, step in, and close it just as quietly, her head bowed low. She scurried in, back in her usual garb, but didn't dare look up at Mustang.

Roy gave her a few moments to collect herself by solemnly looking down and continuing to scratch on his paper. When she didn't do anything, however, he looked up at her. "Ahh, Fullmetal! There you are! I was wondering when I'd see you next," he said with a nonchalant shrug, "maybe I should have looked down…"

"Don't." Ed muttered, rubbing an eye with her auto-mail fist. "I'm really, really, _really_ not in the mood today, Colonel. Just thought you might wanna know that I wasn't kidnapped or anything. I'm fine."

Roy nodded, resting his chin on one hand. "Yes, that would have been a pleasant thing to know. Knowing sometime on Saturday would have been fantastic. Friday night even better."

Ed shook her head. She turned around to make her leave, but Roy quickly stopped her.

"Now wait just one moment, young lady. Come in, sit your ass down! I want to know how it went. Please, give this old geezer a clue."

Ed snickered a little, apparently appreciating the effort to cheer her up, "you said it first." She calmed and sat on the couch, watching as Roy stood and went to stand near her.

"Erm… well…?" asked Roy innocently, his eyes trained on his little girl.

Ed puffed out her cheeks and slowly released the air that she'd stored. "Ah… it was alright. It was… it was okay."

What, no 'fantastic'? No 'best night of my life'? It was just 'alright'? How could any date be just alright? "Oh? Do you still like him? Will there be a follow-up?"

Ed solemnly shook her head.

Roy's face immediately dissipated, slipping into a neat mask of anger. "What do you mean?" he thought for several seconds, trying to think of why Ed wouldn't have a follow-up… she was a beautiful young lady, her eyes like molten gold, her hair silky and perfect. It couldn't have been _Ed's_ fault. "What did you two _do_?" he asked. Maybe she was just too embarrassed to say that yes, there was another date.

His face twisted into a mask of horror. Maybe… maybe something had happened. Something rated R. Roy could have gagged right there, but he forced himself to stand still. Maybe there wasn't much contact. Maybe they snuggled. Maybe there was just lip on lip contact.

_But then, maybe there was more_, spoke the devil inside him. _Maybe there was bare skin on bare skin. Maybe that boy has taken your daughter. Maybe he's made her his?_

Roy gagged this time, stroking his throat and forcing himself to swallow the rising bile.

"N-nothing." Ed must have noticed Roy's stricken face, because she glared at him, "nothing like that, pervert! He just…" she shook her head and looked away, shifting as if she were in pain. "…Really, really wanted to."

Roy swallowed. He moved closer, stopped at her side, and crouched. "_Did_ he?"

"No. No! I didn't let him near me! But he kept touching and trying, I just… I walked out of the theater and headed home."

"You went to a dark theater?" asked Roy. "Surely you're smarter than that."

"I know, Mustang, but apparently not!" Ed scowled. She glared at him. "Go on, say it! Tell me how you told me so, tell me how you _knew_ this would happen!"

Roy half wanted to. Really. It would teach her a lesson. But, he couldn't. "I'm not going to do that to you, Ed," he purred.

Ed paused, and then smiled. "A-and you know what the best part is? Not long before I left, this other _whore_ walks in wearing some skimpy as shit dress that's ugly as fuck and you could tell she was just wearing it to show off her big boobs and her thighs and everything, and she sits down by him, and he doesn't even hesitate to turn on her and start kissing and touching her! And here I am, sitting there on his other side trying to watch anything but them and trying to ignore them but _goddamn_ she was loud! But they were acting like I wasn't _right_ there, like _no one_ was there! I mean, who the fuck does that?"

Roy pulled himself up and sat at Ed's side, wrapping an arm very firmly around her shoulders. She leaned against him, turning to him a little.

"I'm sorry for not listening to you…" said Edwina into his lapel.

"It wasn't your fault," Roy sighed. Ed had only been attracted by a big teen who was maybe a little nice to her. It happened, what with all of the douchebags running rampant in her life. "I'm just glad that you're safe."

Ed laughed. "He couldn't have hurt me." She mellowed and sighed heavily. "Are _all_ guys just like that?"

Roy paused, peering down at the girl he held. This was too perfect. There was no way that she was being serious. But Ed's golden eyes were so curious, so innocent as she looked up at him, so wet. He tightened his hold and grinned on the inside. "Yes."

Ed's face went from curious to stricken. She looked away from him.

"Yes, every single one of us are pigs. Except maybe Alphonse, but I haven't seen him outside of the armor, so I guess I don't know. All that us men want is to get into a young lady's pants. And don't you dare think differently. Trust me. I know. Some of us are just better at hiding it, better at controlling it."

Ed huffed and frowned, shaking her head. "Yeah," she sighed, "right."

Roy squeezed Ed's shoulder and stood. "Well, it doesn't matter now. He can't hurt you." He purred.

"Mhmm." Edwina ducked from Roy's arm. She shoved her hands into her red coat pockets, watching the man. You aren't going to, like, carry out that threat, are you? That'd be embarrassing…" she pouted.

Roy tapped his chin in thought, peering at the little girl that he would give his life for. "Maybe not that exact threat…" he decided furtively.

"That's all I ask."

Roy grinned to himself, dropping into his chair. "You're dismissed, Fullmetal."

That Wednesday, the front page story of the _East City Enquirer_ was about a boy who had been attacked and slightly injured in an alley. He was knocked unconscious, but awoke in his bed. While at first he'd thought it was a nightmare, _IF YOU DARE TOUCH MY DAUGHTER EVER AGAIN, I WON'T GO SO EASY ON YOU_ was written across his wall in powerful red permanent marker.

According to the article, the family was choosing not to press charges if they ever found the attacker, by request of the boy. And when pressed (by both Edwina and Hawkeye), Roy valiantly denied ever having anything to do with it. For his sake, neither chose to point out the mischievous glint in his eye, or the fact that the address of Ben's house was tossed on the floor near the trashcan near his desk, angrily crumpled.

Though Edwina would never admit it—not to his face, she _did_ have her pride to think about here—she couldn't have been more glad to have Roy looking out for her. It was like, she had admitted to Alphonse a few nights after the fiasco, having a father again.


	2. The Fading Storm

Flames of Power

**A/N: I'm sorry that I fail, you guys. I'm so busy, though. I'll do what I can to keep up with it. Besides, it was only a day, right? Right? :D I've had this idea in my head forever. I wrote it all up in two days. Several weeks ago. :p Oops. **

ONE-SHOT 02: The Fading Storm

_Summary_: In which Roy realizes that even the strongest people that he knows have the right to be weak.

_Rating_: K+ - T (For any possible curse words... I don't remember whether or not there are any.

* * *

One hand held to the wall, Roy stumbled about. His palms still ached from the stab wounds, his eyes burned when he tried to squint around and see, and his head still throbbed from all that Father put them through.

All in all, despite having the least injuries of most of the army, even he had yet to heal.

He was on one of his nightly strolls. Hawkeye didn't know that he went on these. He did them so that he could get used to moving about on his own.

He focused inward and on his hand, using the gentle signals that his hand and feet gave him to tell him where to go. Toes meet a wall? Time to turn. Fingers leave the wall? Found a doorway, or a corner, or a room.

He knew that it was storming. When Armstrong had visited a few days ago, he had mentioned that it would be for the next week. In the very back of his mind, he heard the faintest rumble of thunder. He couldn't exactly see the lightning that he knew flashed through the sky before every clap. He was blind; of course he couldn't see it!

Instinctively, he jerked his head up when, at the rear of his mind, he picked up a much louder rumble than before. Now focusing outward more than in, he heard it again: a loud clap of thunder and then, from somewhere to his right, a sharp cry.

He paused when he heard that. Sure, he'd heard that voice before. It hhad previously had a metallic ring, but he'd certainly heard it. It took him a second, but he thought of the distance from his room to this place, and then he knew: he'd found himself in front of the Elric Brothers' room.

"It's okay, Al, it's okay now."

Of course Edward was the one doing the comforting. Roy expected no less, though he admittedly wished that the older would let others comfort him. It was apparent that, whatever it was that Alphonse was suffering from, Edward was suffering from it as well. The boy's—no, surely he was a man by now—voice was breaking and shaking a bit.

A deep sigh heaved from Roy's chest. Still touching the wall, he turned until he stood in the doorway. To anyone who still thought he could see, it may have looked as if he was watching the two brothers interact. Not that he would have been doing otherwise.

He scuffed his hospital0issued shoes, wincing inwardly at the pathetic noise that sounded from the sole—if one could even call it that.

A tiny squeak sounded, which Roy picked up above everything else. He knew that Edward was displeased at having been caught in their truly pathetic states.

Pathetic noises were still being drawn from Alphonse's tiny, emaciated frame. Roy briefly wondered if Alphonse minded at all that he'd been caught, or even if he'd noticed.

All three of them reacted to the powerful thunderclap that rocked the hospital to its base. Roy only winced, but Edward made a second squeak of protest and Alphonse let a bubble of a sob streak from his throat.

"What's the matter?" Roy asked kindly, listening for a sign from either of them.

Edward only growled at him. Roy heard him shift a little. With a second heavy sigh, Roy tramped slowly over to the bed from which he could hear that someone was laying on. Reaching a hand out, he blindly searched for a place to set the bandaged appendage. He was only relieved to discover that he found a jumble of messy hair. Someone's head. And, judging by the lack of yet another squeak of protest, it was probably Alphonse.

Alphonse, still whimpering, leaned into the strong touch of comfort. Though his weak body still quaked—both with terror and effort—he relaxed innocently, pressing closer to the powerful presence above him.

Roy's face visibly eased—anyone with seeing eyes could see that. He slowly moved his hand back and forth, feeling Al move with him.

"What's the matter?" he repeated, asking Edward the question.

Edward scoffed at him. He didn't offer Roy the answer he was looking for.

Three more claps of thunder in quick succession had Al wincing pitifully. He pressed closer to Roy, apparently finding his presence comforting. But more so than his big brother's? Now, _that_ he found hard to believe.

Roy's heart slowly melted and cracked at each tiny whimper that Al produced.

He reached his other hand—his left hand—out until it touched the boy's head. He trailed it down, found a shoulder, and drew his arm around the delicate china that was Alphonse's flesh and blood shoulder.

Alphonse innocently pressed his face to the man's stomach. The face made his scar throb, but he didn't comment. If it were Fullmetal making the movements, making his scar ache, he might have scolded him, but Alphonse was Alphonse, and he wouldn't do that to him.

A very loud thunderclap soon found Alphonse's weak, shaky arms around Roy's waist and a sob flying from his new throat.

With a small, amused chuckle, Roy sat on the bed and drew Al closer, pressing him tight against him to quell the shaking.

Roy felt the pressure on the bed change, and he knew that Edward wanted to shift closer to his brother, but didn't want to be near Roy—not that intimately. "Come here, Ed," he said. He held his arms out to the young man.

Ed only scoffed at him, shifting away.

Roy sighed, frowned, and lowered his hand. He slid it around Alphonse again, pulling him tight into an embrace. He tugged the boy into his lap and moved so he could lean back on the pillows.

Alphonse didn't seem to mind. In fact, he leaned his head on Roy's chest and curled his legs up, resting his bony feet on Roy's legs.

Roy could feel Edward's scrutinizing gaze on him, but he ignored it best as he could. He squeezed Al's shoulder and held him all the tighter.

Roy listened for the thunder, and felt for Al's sharp winces. At each one, he held the younger tighter and tighter. He felt wetness touching his chest through the thin hospital shirt, felt Al's thin fingers dig into the soft material. Soon, Al was a sobbing mess in his lap, terrified and aching from horrors only he could see.

Alphonse must have wept for nearly twenty minutes straight. Roy was silent the entire time, but he could hear Edward's voice coo to the fifteen-year-old.

When Al calmed considerably, Roy shifted him until he was seated beside him. The boy's arms still weakly clutched Roy's waist, but he was halfway between reality and Lala Land, so the grip could hardly be called stable. Al just sat there, his face pressed to Roy's side as consciousness lazily left him.

As the young teen drifted off, Roy rubbed his back. The occasional _boom!_s that had previously rocked the earth to its core sounded distant. If they were lucky, the storm would be wearing off to near nonexistence.

Roy lifted his head as if to look at Edward. "So, what happened?" he asked again.

The gaze seemed to unnerve Edward enough that he finally answered. "Meh… Al's scared of storms," he said. Roy didn't bother to point out that, as thunder clapped, Ed winced.

Roy nodded. "Apparently," he agreed. He held up a hand to the boy, leaving an open space between his scarred side and his arm.

Edward scoffed loudly at him. "Hell no! I don't need to give you _another_ reason to blackmail me!" he spat.

Roy paused, lifted an eyebrow, and waved a hand in front o fhis face. "Can't see, remember? Who'd believe me? For all I know, you're some senile old man, with his—I don't know—pet cat."

In his mind's eye, Roy could see Edward's shocked face. He grinned at the thought, though wished more than anything that he could see it.

Edward snickered after a moment of shocked silence. "If _I'm_ old and senile, how are _you_ still alive?" he teased.

"I'm not even old!" Roy defended valiantly.

"Right, and I'm not even sho-eh… er…"

Roy could only try to imagine Ed's disappointed face as he admitted the sad truth. He snickered to himself, leaning forward as far as he could without bothering Alphonse to pat Edward's arm—left or right, he didn't know. "It's good that you're admitting it to yourself, Edward. Admittance is always the first step."

Edward slapped his hand away, and Roy had to ignore the sudden stabbing pain that rocketed through his wound. "Shut up, bastard! I'm _not_ short," he insisted icily.

Roy brought his now-throbbing hand to his other hand, the one draped around Alphonse, and attempted to rub away the pain. "I'm kidding, Ed," he hissed.

Ed scoffed again.

Roy's eyes softened a little, his heavy brow lifting. "Ed, I know that you're afraid of the storm, too." He purred.

Edward choked on his words deploringly, flustering exponentially. "A-am not! I'm _not_!" he insisted.

"Right. Nice try, shortstop. I know that you wince at each thunderclap." Roy sighed.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE'D NEVER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT BEING ELECTROCUTED?!" Edward spat, bristling effectively. "And if that damn thunder were quieter, I wouldn't be wincing!"

"You aren't fooling anybody. Not me, and definitely not your brother. I suppose that's why he didn't cry until I took him, right? He was trying to stay strong for you." Roy commented.

Edward didn't reply. After a bit, he huffed. "Who cares if I'm scared of the storm?" he snapped.

Roy shrugged a little. A thunderclap rumbled, and Roy felt Ed tense against his leg. "Come on, Ed. I promise, I won't tell. No one has to know. Come make a sandwich."

Ed sputtered. Reluctantly, he puttered forward. When Roy felt his hand on his knee, another blast—particularly loud—burst into the room. Seconds later, Roy felt Ed shaking against his side, his arms shaking nearly as much as Alphonse's had been.

Roy was nearly blown backwards by the force of Ed's arrival. His free arm clutched around the young blond, holding them both steady.

"Sh-shut up." Edward stammered, curling at Roy's side.

"I didn't say anything." Roy assured. He squeezed Ed's shoulder and pulled both boys tight against him.

Fifteen minutes of silence followed. Finally, Ed managed to settle his shaking. Roy felt him cross his arms and lean in, muttering, "thanks…"

"So… why are you afraid of the storm?" Roy queried curiously.

Edward hesitated, then turned his face into Roy's nightshirt. "It was storming that night."

Roy glanced his way, wanting to observe him but sadly unable to. "_What_ night?" he pressed.

Edward elbowed his side, earning himself a jerk of surprise. "What night do you think? When we tried to bring Mom back!" Ed snarled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And honestly, it should have been. Roy felt his face grow hot. How could he have been so _stupid_? "Ed…" he started.

Ed didn't say anything, but he did grumble sourly. Thankfully, he didn't move away. After a little while, he sighed. "Every time it thunders, I see the Gate opening wide and yanking me in, making me see all of these things that I didn't even want to see, and then taking my leg, and then coming to and Al's just _gone_…" he took a deep breath and shuddered, "and then, Truth is grinning at me and all, 'Didn't I just see you, little alchemist?' And then it's all coming back, except _more_, and then I see Al but the Gate… it closes and I plead with Truth to take _anything_…" The smallest of sobs ruptured from Ed's throat, but he turned against Roy to hide it.

"I hear you…" Roy assured, his voice little more than a purr.

And he did, because he remembered the Gate opening for him and pulling him in even though he hadn't done anything.

Edward shuddered again. "That's why Al was c-crying. I used to have nightmares about it for the longest time. Al woke up from one, I think, and just… _started_…" he explained.

"Mhmm…" Roy started, squeezing both of them even tighter. "Edward, you know that _you_ don't have to worry about it, right? You're not even an alchemist anymore. Truth can't hurt you anymore." He promised.

"But what about Al?" Ed demanded. "What if Truth does something to Al? I'll kill myself if something happens to him!"

Roy shifted a little, just enough that Edward was halfway in his lap and halfway on the bed. "Edward, as an alchemist, I'll protect your brother from Truth myself. I swear it. And besides, the only reason that Truth would have anything to do with Al is if he does something stupid and finds himself back there again. And Alphonse is a very intelligent child."

Edward sniffled, pressing closer and closer to Roy. He burrowed into Roy's chest more. "Kay…" he muttered.

It was a while before either of them spoke. Finally, Ed released a disgruntled sigh, and his arms slid around Roy's waist, holding Alphonse's arms up. "I'm so… so… tired…" he murmured. Though not a yawn left him, even Roy could see how true it was.

Roy chuckled, tucking him between his arm and his side. "Go to sleep, Ed. I'm here. I'll protect you until morning. You don't have to be strong anymore. Let me keep watch for now," he said.

Ed nodded, but then stopped. "You can't even keep watch anymore."

Roy frowned. He nestled Ed tightly against him, feeling the young man turn into him. "You know what I mean. I promise you, I _will_ keep you safe." He promised.

Ed sighed, yawned, and pressed his face into Roy's side, nuzzling the scar as if he didn't feel it.

In a few minutes, Edward fell fast asleep, leaning against Roy and expecting him—trusting him—to keep them safe throughout the night.

* * *

When Hawkeye pushed open the door, she expected a few things. She expected Edward and Alphonse to be asleep in their own beds, or maybe Edward would be up and sitting in the chair by Al's bed. She expected to see a nurse checking Edward's right arm and Alphonse's entire physical being. She expected to have _someone_ to ask about the whereabouts of her colonel.

She knew her colonel inside and out, knew his mannerisms and his actions. She even knew (though she let him believe differently) that he went on nightly strolls so that he wouldn't be dependent on someone for the rest of his life.

So, since she knew him so well, it was needless to say that what she saw _should_ have been something that she expected.

But she didn't.

She didn't think that anyone who knew the Colonel, besides maybe Brigadier General Maes Hughes, would have expected it.

Ever.

And yet, when she pushed open the door to the Elric Brothers' room, this unexpected thing was exactly what she saw.

Well, if it did anything, it at least told her what had happened to Roy.

"So… would it be alright if we wake them? Alphonse does need his sleep, but for all three of them to be in the same bed…"

Hawkeye blinked out of her amazed stupor and looked up at the brothers' morning nurse.

The nurse was a plump young lady with a cheerful face every other time. Now, though, she just looked confused.

"Uh… no. I don't think so. Just leave them. They aren't hurting each other anyway, right?" Hawkeye denied.

The woman shook her head. "No, they're in no danger of reopening their wounds. It's just… well…"

Hawkeye smiled softly. "When they wake up, you could make them move. They look too comfortable, now."

The nurse nodded and left, leaving Hawkeye alone with Edward, Alphonse, and Roy.

A _snuggling_ Edward, Alphonse, and Roy.

She smiled again and sat on the chair at Alphonse's bedside. She reached her hand up, and brushed Roy's bangs to the side, chuckling oh so softly when Roy's head dipped and bent to hover above Alphonse's.

Roy sat stretched out on Al's bed, his ankles crossed. He had his arms draped over two blond Elric boys, both of whom were tucked against him. Alphonse's cheeks were stained with dry tears. Edward only had a few small tracks. Both boys had wrapped thin arms around Roy's waist.

Hawkeye stood again, knowing that, if there was any time for Hughes and his damn camera to be here, now was that time.

She went to the door and glanced back, her eyes softening when Edward curled into Roy's side tighter. Roy innocently replied by tightening his already strong grip around his shoulders.

"Good night, my men. Sleep well," she purred quietly, to keep from waking them. After a few more seconds of her vigil, she turned and went to her room.

After all, just like Roy, she wasn't supposed to be walking. Not quite yet.

* * *

There you have it, one-shot # 2! Next week: _Kiss_.

Until next time,

YAJJ


	3. Kiss

Flames of Power

**A/N: Well, I'm not late at all. :| I'm sorry. I fail. But in my defense, this one was long. One of my favorites, but still long. **

ONE-SHOT 03: Kiss

_Summary_: Ed and Mustang's relationship has always been subpar at best on the outside, but no one, not even Mustang's staff, knows of the little kisses that they share that gives it meaning. No yaoi!

_Rating_: K+ to T

Note: Based roughly off of the way that I saw someone describe Edward and Mustang's relationship when they were saying that RoyEd would only ruin it. I absolutely despise yaoi, though mostly RoyEd, because these two already have two beautiful women waiting for them at home who have always been with them, and why does everyone think that Roy's a pedophile anyway?

_Word count_ Brothers: 1,466

_Word count _Father-Son: 3,008

_Word count_ Commander-Subordinate: 1,121

Brothers

_Accidental lip-on-lip contact in the break room eventually has them both spluttering with laughter._

He really ought not to have been there. Really. This was his—what… fifth?—cup of coffee, and if he went for another one he'd probably find a bullet through his foot, courtesy of his Hawk's Eye.

But still, Colonel Roy Mustang brought the Styrofoam cup to his lips and sipped at the strongly brewed liquid that was surely poured straight from the fountains at Heaven's gate. He glanced outside, to the courtyard of the headquarters, gazing upon what was sure to be his kingdom, one day. He held the brim of the cup between his fingers, letting his hand drop.

For the middle of the morning on a particularly lazy day, Mustang had been surprised to find, when he had entered with a grumble, that the break room was silent, with not a soul taking up its air space.

He yawned, muffling it against a gloved hand. It was too early in the morning to be doing this paperwork. Way too early. And he wasn't in a terribly good mood, either. Not even the blessed coffee scalding and washing his throat could improve his sour temperament born of a sleep wrought with nightmares.

The door shuffled open and then clicked closed after a bit. Shuffling footsteps paused, and then, "er… sorry if I disturb you…"

"Not at all," Mustang's voice immediately dipped politely, a habit from all of the years of working around those superior to him. His ears caught up the annoyed pitch, and smirked a little, "Fullmetal."

Edward huffed. "Oh, it's you. Well, Hawkeye sent me to find you. You're lucky I'm wasting my time on you."

"Of course I am. Thank you, Ed." Mustang grouched. He lifted his cup to his lips and pulled in a second sip.

Apparently annoyed, Edward stomped closer to him. "C'mon, bastard! I came here to ship your lazy ass back to work, the least you could do is actually listen!" he snarled, grabbing Mustang's sleeve and tugging on it helplessly.

The raven-haired man lifted a hand and swatted at him. "Just give me a second. I'll be in soon."

"_Soon_, as in twenty minutes from now?" Ed growled.

"Thereabouts." Mustang shrugged his heavy shoulders and yawned again, taking another long sip. He downed the coffee before Edward got too irritated with him, tossed the cup in the nearby trash can, and spun around to appease his youngest subordinate.

He didn't know what exactly went wrong.

Maybe his foot caught on the wall or something as he turned. Yeah, that made sense, right? His foot caught, and that's why he tripped. Or maybe Ed had slipped his foot under him somehow, maybe by accident or on purpose, but judging by the outcome it was probably an accident.

The surprise apparently made both of them lose their balance. Edward took a quick step back, but he still couldn't get away. Roy's hand caught on his shoulders, and he was pushed backwards, effectively smashing his back into the ground, his superior on top of him.

Their faces came within mere centimeters of each other, far too quickly, and then their lips were brushing.

It only should have lasted a second. Really, it should have. Both were intelligent, and both worked well under pressure. They ought to have been able to register what was going on. They should have been able to leap away, and then probably ignore each other for the rest of the day; Roy would hole up in his office and finish his paperwork, for once, without further incident, and Edward would hole up with his work in his dorm or the library.

So why didn't that happen? Why did Ed's eyes widen so much, but why didn't he kick and squirm and fight to escape his superior's stunned stupor?

Only the tips of their lips brushed, but they may as well have deepened the kiss, their faces were so red.

They took another minute to register what in _fuck's name_ was going on, but finally, Mustang's heavy blush deepened and his eyes widened, his irises smaller than specks of sand. He shot up and off of Edward, who was still frozen, attempting to comprehend. He immediately crawled to the garbage like a toddler and spat into it, attempting to erase any trace of Fullmetal.

Edward finally got off of the ground and scrambled to the nearby couch, glaring at Mustang. "Pervert!" he spat.

"Like that was my choice!" Roy replied hotly. He smothered, sinking toward the garbage. "Goddamn… I think I'm going to be sick…" he whimpered.

It took an extra minute for the two to calm down, not daring to look at the other. While Roy spat into the trash, Edward spat on the carpet, not caring one way or another what happened or who cared.

Roy looked up and out of the window. He wiped his lips with his jacket sleeve, peering around. His eyes landed on Fullmetal.

Ed still had that 'deer in the headlights' look that he'd adopted as soon as their lips had touched. He was clutching his red coat around him as if he thought he was completely vulnerable, tucking himself into a tiny ball.

Roy didn't know what did it. Maybe it was Ed's face—a face that was completely not-Fullmetal—or the situation as a whole, or maybe something else. His eyes crinkled with mirth, and he burst into ridiculous laughter.

Edward's deer-in-the-headlights look only intensified, his eyeborws raising as he watching his superior snicker.

Roy laughed for a minute straight before he managed to settle enough to speak around his giggles, "your _face_! You should see your _face_!"

Edward's look didn't change, but after a while his eyes widened—if possible—even more. He wiped his lips too, and started a little giggle.

Hearing Ed laugh made Roy laugh a little harder, which in turn brought out Ed's own flurry of guffaws.

"_M-my_ face? Y-you should see yours! You look so dumb!" he cackled.

The two were practically rolling around on the floor for about five minutes. Roy was the first to regain his composure, clutching his aching sides pathetically. He swiped at his tearing eyes, pushed himself to his feet, and shakily forced himself to the sink. He tore a Styrofoam cup off of the holder nearest the coffee pot, turning on the faucet and sliding the cup beneath the flow, not caring much of the temperature. He swiftly brought the cup to his mouth and emptied it all. He threw his head back and promptly gargled. He spat into the sink, leaning forward on the basin to try to quell his still-shaking shoulders.

Edward managed to calm himself, too. He lay spread-eagle on the ugly lavender carpet, rubbing his cheek with his flesh hand. "My cheeks hurt," he whined.

Roy grinned down at him. "My sides feel like they're going to split open." He refilled the cup, gargled once more, and then took a long drink. He glaned down again at te boy, who still lay panting on the floor. He refilled the cup and waltzed over to the younger. He ehdl it above his head and lifted it a little.

Water dribbled over the lip of the cup. A few droplets plummeted toward the blond, making him wince each time they plopped on his face. The opened his eyes wide, looking up at his commander.

"Here, drink. You should clean out your mouth. Or at least, y'know, brush your teeth." Roy snickered.

Ed glared at him, sitting up. He took the cup and downed it in seconds. "I'll have you know that I brush my teeth every damn day." He spat, sounding more amused at his superior's jab than he was annoyed.

"Mhmm, I'm sure you do…" Roy rolled his eyes. He plucked the empty cup from Ed's grasp, refilled it, and passed it back. He stepped out of the way so the short boy could gargle as he'd done.

"What's going on in here?"

Roy looked up, obediently saluting the darker-skinned man. General Raven lifted his brows, watching the two. "Nothing, sir. Just a little mishap. C'mon, Fullmetal, you and I both have paperwork to be done."

Edward nodded, tossing the cup into the nearby trash can. He scurried after his superior when the Flame left; Raven had freaked him out since day one.

As they wandered down the hallway toward Roy's office, Roy glanced down at Edward. He touched the boy's head softly, flicking the antenna. "Never speak of that, ever." He said.

Ed only grinned, nodding. "Never, ever, ever." he agreed, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Roy nodded and marched forward, dropping his hand. The smile crossing his cheeks remained until long after he'd sat down at his desk and started his paperwork again.

It was a good day…

Father-Son

_When Ed and Roy are captured and tortured by activists of the looming Drachman War, the only things that assured Ed of Roy's not-hatred of him are the little kisses that Mustang pressed to his temple before he falls into an exhausted sleep._

He really ought not to have been there. Really. With his gloves off of his hands and sliced into millions of little pieces, with his fingers completely wrapped in pieces of cloth, immobilizing them so well, he really just shouldn't have been there.

He really was lucky, though, that he'd been trained for this. He really, _really_ was. If he hadn't, he'd have been shooting off the information that those bastards were looking for, just to make it _all go away…_

Roy winced when he heard a heavy thud, the elements that slipped through his mind and occasionally from his mouth still continuing like a song forever on repeat.

Across the room, one hand completely gone and the other wrapped in cloth just like Roy's, Edward lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath and failing oh so miserably. The young teen looked flustered and upset. He looked like hell warmed over, what with the busted lip, broken arm, tattered clothes, and blood washed across his body like garments.

Unfortunately, unlike Roy, young Edward had never been trained on what to do when he was being tortured. At least it had been Roy who had been tortured for several days, and he watched the man's silent defense against his attacks. He recognized when the man started listing elements (that had happened only yesterday, when Roy's head had been split open like a watermelon. The man had started listing everything that he knew about each and every element. Edward had to admit, he was impressed with the man who only worked with fire's knowledge of all of these elements. Ed was supposedly a genius and he didn't know half the stuff that the Colonel was listing.) was a defensive tactic, and so had been trying to find something to think about when the attacks became too much. So far, he hadn't had any luck, but Roy had had heard him singing a lullaby under his breath and so he had an idea of what Ed would probably use.

"Ed?"

Edward's golden eyes looked up at him. He forced himself to rise to his hand and knees, whimpering in pain. "Wh-what? 'M fine," said the boy.

"That looked like a bad one," Roy commented. And, if Edward raised his shirt, he'd see that it was.

Still, Ed shook his head. He crawled over to Roy with a sad little limp and collapsed at his side. "I'm j-just fine." He stammered.

Roy's lips turned up into a tiny smile. He shifted his legs a little, patting his thigh gently.

Ed paused, as he normally did. He looked toward the other thigh, where ran a deep, infecting gash.

Roy sighed. Again, he patted his thigh, resting his elbow outside of the gash, blocking it from Edward's view. "C'mon, Ed. You need to sleep."

Ed bit his lip. As usual, though, he waddled forward. He paused again at Roy's side and shook his head. "'M sorry, Colonel…"

"It's not your fault," Roy denied. He rubbed his chipped fingernails along Ed's shoulder blades, which were mostly wound-free.

And it was true. It was Roy's choice to defend Edward. It was Roy's choice to take the knife that could have sunk into Edward's stomach had he not stood before him. It was _Roy's_ choice to let Ed have most of what little water and nutrients they received. It wasn't Edward's fault.

Try telling Ed that, though.

"I'm sorry, colonel," Ed repeated forcefully, big golden eyes wide and wet, watching his superior nervously.

"It'll get worse if you don't rest. Go to sleep."

Ed shook his head. "H-how come you don't hate me?" he asked. It had, after all, been Edward's brash actions that had weakened the soil, that had caused the landslide that had tipped both he and Ed tumbling down the rock cliff face. If not for those actions, neither would have been knocked unconscious. Perhaps, if one of them had managed to hold onto consciousness for a while longer, he could have dragged the other away from their captor's nearby camp.

But then, if Roy had actually told Hawkeye where he was going, she could have been there by now. But he had been ordered to keep it a secret.

Still, Roy's fingertips dug into Ed's shoulder blade gently. He pulled the younger closer. Ed obediently crawled forward. When Roy pushed on him softly, the boy collapsed on Roy's lap and slowly turned over until he was looking up at Roy.

Roy smiled at him gently. "Now why in the world would I hate _you_?" he asked softly.

A tiny smile cracked on Edward's cheeks. He continued watching the man above him as he rested a hand on his golden head and played with his bangs best as he could.

Roy's features were soft—softer than they had been for anyone in a long time. Almost afraid of what the boy may think of his actions, Roy ducked down and pressed his lips gently to his temple.

Edward froze momentarily, eyes wide.

Roy pulled away from him as though that were something that he did every day. He slid his arm beneath Edward's shoulders and pulled him higher on his lap, closer to the warmth of his body. "Go to sleep, Edward. I'll watch over you. Just get some rest."

Ed seemed hesitant at first, still a little confused concerning his superior's actions, before he burrowed into the warmth that was the Flame Alchemist. "N-night, Mustang…" he muttered. After a few minutes of silence, Ed finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Roy smiled.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Roy rubbed his aching thigh, watching his subordinate from where he sat at one pillar, watching the young man shake on the other pillar.

Ed watched him in reply. He watched him rub his leg, his guilty expression only intensifying ridiculously. "C-Colonel?" he asked innocently.

Roy's eyes darted back up from Ed's wounds, which his eyes chose to randomly wander to sometimes. "I'm fine, Ed. It's just throbbing. Don't think about it." He purred.

"Y-you sure?" quaked the young man.

"Absolutely."

Ed whimpered a little at him. "I-I could… I could help you…" he offered despairingly.

Roy nodded. "I know you could. But you don't have to. Focus on your own injuries."

"B-but mine aren't as bad. I can live with mine. I can—"

"Don't you dare go thinking that I'm going to die here. I'll do no such thing."

Ed winced and looked up at him. He nodded feebly. "Y-yes sir…"

Roy smirked a little. He shifted painfully, rubbing his wound again.

Ed eyed him warily. "I'm sorry, Colo—"

"Stop it, Ed. Not your fault." Roy stopped Ed in his tracks. He shifted once, crossing his legs. He patted his exposed, good thigh invitingly, "just come here and get some rest. You'll wear yourself out with worry."

Ed flushed, "I'm okay. Not tired. You don't have to be my pillow."

"Maybe not, but it's easier for me to keep my eye on you this way." Roy contradicted knowingly.

Ed swallowed and looked around, as though looking for someone who could blackmail him for this. "You…" he swung his head back toward Roy. "You need to rest, too."

"I will. Just do this for me, kid. Please."

Ed swallowed. He pushed himself forward and crawled to Mustang. He looked p at the man hesitantly, and then dropped gently into his lap. "I _am_ sorry," he muttered.

Roy leaned down and kissed his temple. Despite this happening nearly every day for the past week since that first time, Ed still gained that deer-in-the-headlight look, though it cleared much quicker with every passing day. "Go to sleep, Ed."

Ed cocked his head. He swallowed again, turning and curling against the man. "G-good night, Mustang."

"Good night, Ed."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Roy drew Edward back into his lap. He tucked the boy against him tightly, letting his warmth (extra warmth) seep into the shivering child. "Good night, Ed…" he purred.

Edward shifted so as to not bother the man's infection. He nodded. "Good night, Mustang." He hummed when Roy dipped and kissed his temple again.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Good night, Ed."

"Good night, Mustang."

Ed hummed again. He no longer gained that look when Roy kissed him. Hadn't for two weeks now.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Good night, Mustang."

Roy hummed weakly at his subordinate. Finally, the damned infection was taking its toll on him.

"…Good _night_, Mustang." Ed struggled furtively to keep his commander awake.

Roy lifted his head a little, glassy black eyes blinking open. He frowned at the younger. "Wh-When did you get there?" he asked.

Ed furrowed his eyebrows, sitting up a bit in Roy's lap. "I've been here for a while…" he said. He looked into Roy's eyes and groaned. "God…" he shook his head. "This isn't good."

"No shit, Fullmetal." Roy sighed. He rubbed his pounding temples.

Ed growled a little. He sat up higher and curled against his chest.

"Thanks, Fullmetal, but I'm warm enough, thank you very much." Roy muttered.

Ed growled again at his commander. "I don't care. _I'm_ cold, and _you_ can't keep forgetting that I'm right here." He scowled.

"Please, forgive my fever riddled mind."

"Whatever," Ed yawned, nuzzling his face into Roy's shoulder. "Good night, Mustang."

Roy paused. He smiled, stroking his aching thigh again. "G-good night, Edward."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"We're never getting out of here, are we?"

That was Ed's sudden decision from where he sat in front of Mustang who was caught in the midst of a hallucinogenic-like haze.

Mustang glanced his way, heart pounding. "F-Fullmetal. B-behind you…" he stammered pathetically.

Ed glanced momentarily to one side. "There's no one there, Colonel. Just like the last several times. They haven't been here for a while."

"Th-they're coming, Ed! You hafta get outta here!" Roy insisted.

Ed shook his head. "I'm not gonna leave you."

"Y-you can m-m-make it! I don' st'nd a ch-chance! Get o-outta here and f-find Hawkeye!"

"I'm _not_ leaving you, dammit! Don't ask me again!" Ed scowled.

Roy's hazy eyes clouded a little more, confusion interlacing the blackness of his irises.

Ed glared at him, crossed his arms, and looked away. "The way you're acting, you don't think so either," he sighed.

"Wha'?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "That we aren't getting out of here."

"Oh…" Roy swallowed, attempting to saturate his dry throat. He panted, narrowing his eyes at the younger. "…No… you, 'opefully. But… b't not m-me…"

"I'll help you." Ed offered.

Roy shook his head. "If Hawkeye h'd a clue where we were, we'd be 'n a 'ospital in Centr'l by now. I'll be dead 'fore she gits 'ere. And 'f not, too cl'se t' r'cover."

"I'm _not leaving you_!" Edward screamed. He grabbed Mustang's shoulders and promptly shoved him to the ground, resting on his stomach. His golden eyes burned with fury and the sting of rising tears. "I'm _not_…" he insisted

Roy looked more surprised than anything else, staring at the boy above him. He flushed a little more, properly embarrassed, and looked guiltily at the fifteen-year-old. "R-right. Sorr…s-sorry, Ed."

Ed nodded, eyes screaming with full determination. "Don't _ask_ me to… that's not fair…" he pouted at his commanding officer, who frowned and attempted to push Ed off of him. After a bit, Ed backed away so Roy could at least rub his pounding head.

Roy looked up at Ed, wrapped knuckles digging into his own temples. "S'rry, Ed…" he looked behind Ed, his eyes widening in momentary terror. He almost leaned forward to grab Ed's shoulder and throw him behind him best as he could… but he stopped himself. "…E-Ed…?"

"There's no one there."

"Just _check_…?"

Ed gave a melodramatic sigh. He looked over his shoulder and shook his head. "Nope, not a soul."

Roy growled to himself and apologized again.

"Not your fault."

Roy fisted his blood encrusted uniform, looking at the dirt ground. He drew his tongue along his parched lips, emilig a little when Ed crept closer to him.

The boy paused in his heavy thoughts, frowning ridiculously. He sat on Roy's lap without a quarrel, straddling his hips. Finally, his lone arm strewed around his neck. He burrowed into Roy's shoulder nervously. A little shakily. Uncertain.

Roy's fever-clouded eyes softened a little, at first thinking that he was seeing things until he felt Ed's warm arm slide around him. He was even more surprised, but at the same time even more certain of this moment's reality, when Ed pressed his lips to Roy's temple, just as Roy had been doing every night, no matter how sick he got.

Ed smiled against Roy's shoulder when he felt Roy's arms tighten around him and curl, holding him in a comfortably loving embrace.

"S-sorry f'r askin' you…" Roy muttered. He rolled his shoulder a little. "B-but 'f one 'f us c'n get 'way, you sh-should try…"

Ed quickly shook his head. "If one of us can get away, he should try to get the other one away, too," he said firmly.

Roy lifted his chin a little, resting it atop Ed's crown. "R-right, try… good l'ck wi' that…"

Ed snorted. "You should sleep, Colonel. You aren't helping your infection."

"Y-you, too… go t' sleep…"

Ed shook his head. "Someone has to watch you. I can sleep later." It was hard not to notice that he and Roy had suddenly switched places.

Roy's arms tightened around Ed as much as he could, not letting Ed leave, more than slightly delirious.

Ed heaved a heavy, exasperated sigh. "I won't leave." He repeated.

Roy held him tighter still, shifting them both.

Slowly, the two fell into a silent but comfortable sleep.

Roy awoke first. He didn't know how long they slept, but he _did _know what had awoken him. A voice. A clear, crisp, _beautiful_ voice.

"Mustang! Colonel Roy Mustang! Flame Alchemist! Roy, answer me, dammit!"

Hawkeye… that was Riza! He clutched Ed as tight as he could and stumbled to his feet. "L-Lieutenant!" he cried as loudly as possible, though it really wasn't loud at all.

Ed stirred a little, but he didn't awake.

Roy scrambled to his feet desperately. He called out again. His knees went weak at the very thought of his and Ed's rescue (and because of his infection) and he hit the ground. He'd have dropped Ed, but the boy had promised not to leave him, and so he would do the same. "H-Hawkeye! _RIZA_!"

"Roy!"

Roy's heart caught in his throat when a noise came from the door in the direction of that wonderful woman's beautiful voice.

"Roy! Are you here? Was that you?"

"H-H-Hawkeye…" Roy choked on his heart (which really shouldn't have been where it was—honestly) and forced himself to swallow. The room swam. The shadows came alive. But still Roy locked onto that door which was glowing the purest of white lights, as if behind it stood a shimmering angel.

Maybe one did. One that had come to take him—_them_—home. One with honey hair and the most perfect earthy brown eyes.

The door hit the ground suddenly and, as though brought to him by god on a silver platter (well, wasn't Roy's imagination fun today?),the most fantastic person in the world stepped in, her hair neatly clipped, her bangs trimmed into that perfect little hawk's wing, her gun going between each corner of the room and he and Ed, her uniform looking so good and safe and _strong_ on her.

Riza Hawkeye stood tall and proud. Her eyes softened when she saw him, the smallest of tears brimming her eyelids. "Colonel," she muttered.

Mustang shifted and offered his best smirk, smartly clutching Ed to him still. "What took you so long?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Edward stiffened and groaned. He licked his lips, shifting. Where was he? And why did he positively _ache_?

A hand pressed to his forehead, and he winced. Who was it? Would they hurt him? He shivered to himself, and sterted attempting to crack open his disgustingly stick eyes.

The first thing that he saw was a collective whiteness. It was like someone had forgotten to slip the 'color' switch. He closed his eyes again, squeezing them shut painfully.

"Good morning, Fullmetal."

He winced at the voice, now a force of habit, but soon recognized it. He forced his sticky eyes open again, zeroing in on the owner of the voice.

Roy smiled down at him, his eyes soft. "There y'ar'. How are y'u feelin'?"

"I'm…" Edward hardly had to think before he answered. He smiled a little, "fine. Where are we?"

"Hospital in Central. An' don't you lie t' me, k'd. You _will_ b' fine; that doe'n't mean th-chu are n'w." Roy scowled stubbornly.

Ed swallowed and nodded. He looked around. "…Al?"

"He'll b' back in the murnin'. Vis'tin' hours 're over."

"…Kay." Ed squeezed his eyes shut again and turned a little. "How are _you_?" he pressed.

Roy chuckled at him. He continued affectionately stroking Ed's bangs. "I'll live."

"Your infection?"

"They gave m' somethin' f'r it. I'll b' fine."

Ed nodded encouragingly. He clenched his fist.

"…Winry'll be here day after t'morrow to work on y'ur arm."

"Okay." Ed glanced up at Roy, who looked a little flustered where he sat. They bot opened their mouths and, "I'm sorry, Col—"

"Thank you, E—"

Ed blinked at Roy, and Roy at Ed. As one, they said, "you first."

Ed shook his head. "_you_ go first." He insisted.

Roy snorted a little. He leaned forward, leaning over Ed, and gently kissed his temple. "Thanks for not leaving me, kid."

Blushing a little, Ed nodded. "Uh, sure. I wouldn't have left you. Sorry for causing it in the first place."

Roy grinned. "It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have let you come in the first place."

Ed shrugged a little. He watched Roy stand and stagger to the nearby bed. "Are you even supposed to be out of bed?" eh asked innocently.

"You think I c're? Go to sleep, Ed. It's the middle of the night. I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Ed."

"…Good night, Mustang."

Commander-Subordinate

_Sometimes, Ed likes the little kiss of promise that comes with every snap, every short joke, every lecture, because it means that everything in their little world is right as rain._

He really ought not to have been there. It was late at night, almost eleven. He wouldn't even be here if not for their light on in his commander's office.

He hurt. Everywhere. Like _hell_. Everything was aching or throbbing or the like.

Maybe Roy was right. Maybe he _shouldn't_ have gone off on that mission so soon after being rescued. But was it his fault that ants were crawling around in his pants? Was it his fault that sitting in bed in the dorm (or the hospital, which was way worse) was making him more hyperactive than a northeastern gray squirrel on speed? Some general (he didn't bother to remember the man's name) that he was working under until Roy (ahem, Mustang. They weren't weak, pathetic little shits anymore) was off of his sick leave had offered the mission to him.

Bright idea, general.

He yawned and continued his pathetic limp inside.

Mustang shouldn't' have been here, either. Ed knew that. He was surprised Hawkeye had even let him come; she hadn't let him out of her sight if she could help it.

The door was, as usual, very large, very ominous, but very comforting. It had become something of a comfort ever since he and Mustang had come home, for both of them. Behind it held the crisp normalcy of everyday life. Behind it were old friends, who were always all-around happy to see him. Behind it was safety. Behind it, more than anywhere but Resembool, was _home_.

"I'm _fine_, Hawkeye. You needn't;'t worry of me. I can carry all of—stop it. No, stop it. C'mon, you don't let me do _anything_ by myself anymore. I'm not a child."

"You're lucky I let you come here at all, Colonel, so don't press your luck."

Ed chuckled to himself. Now _that_ sounded more like Hawkeye than the brooding mother that she'd become for the both of them since their rescue.

Ed pressed down on the door's handles, pushing them both open. He stumbled inside, hearing two gasps of shock.

"Edward?"

"Fullmetal? What are you doing here? And where's Alphonse?" Ed shrugged. He limped inside, allowing Mustang's gaze to notice the limp with which he walked.

Mustang's eyes darkened considerably. He narrowed them at the boy, clutching tight to the pile of files in his arms. "What's the matter with yoru leg?" he asked.

"Nothing _really_… it was just an idiot. He was chasing me and I stumbled. Twisted my ankle. That's all."

"_Who_, Edward?" Mustang demanded.

Ed quickly put his hands up in surrender. "I dunno… that _Gargantuan Alchemist_ or whatever. The one who can make things bigger by drawing in loads of oxygen and trapping it or some shit." He shrugged.

"You went after tha rogue Gargantuan Alchemist… _by yourself_?! Where was Alphonse?" Mustang's black eyes narrowed further.

"I was told to. And Al wouldn't have let me do it if I'd brought him with. So I said I was running down to the grocer to pick up some stuff."

Hawkeye rolled her eyes at him. "Ed's, he's not going to like that." She scolded.

"Nor will I. Edward, I said that you should be _resting_, dammit! Not going out to get yourself killed!"

"Whatever! It's not like you're resting!"

"But I'm not going _gallivanting_ off, fighting one of the military's most skilled State Alchemists without backup, or telling anyone what you were doing! What if you'd gotten knocked unconscious? You could be sprawled out on the street right now. Or bleeding to death, and no one would know it was happening. What if that happened? Where would that leave _Alphonse_?" he demanded.

Mustang visibly bristled, his eyes sparking in a way that told Ed that What's-His-Face would wake up a pile of ashes… if he could wake up, that is.

"Mustang, it's not even that bad. I just twisted my ankle. It'll heal up in like two weeks!"

"You shouldn't have been out in the first place." Mustang snarled.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Well, it's a little late now." He said starkly.

Mustang puffed and deflated. He glared at the younger. "You shouldn't have accepted it." He scowled.

"Well I'm _sorry_ that I'm going _nuts_ just sitting around doing nothing! I can't handle that!" Ed defended feebly.

Mustang glared at him mostly, but slowly his anger faded, and a smirk twitched the edges of his mouth up. He shook his head. "Well, it's only understandable. That _little_ body couldn't handle _that_ much patience," he said with a shrug, putting special emphasis on that accursed term.

Edward took a little longer than normal to comprehend the words, apparently not expecting them. Behind Mustang, Hawkeye groaned in exasperation. Finally, "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT HE'D BE CRUSHED UNDERTOE BY A PASSING ANT?!"

It was truly the rant to end all rants. Hawkeye and Mustang were practically blown backwards by the force of his words. It didn't take long after the attack of the tornado passed, and the office was really only left with the most ridiculous of guffaws from one black-haired man.

Edward seethed to himself, glaring at Mustang. He turned away from him, but a certain kind of relief fell over him.

He couldn't even begin to explain to himself or anyone else, how good it was to hear Mustang laughing at him. They'd gone through their daily, weekly, or even monthly routine without a fumble or flaw. Things were normal. And how good was that? Despite spending—how long had Hawkeye said?—two months in the captivity of the DAA (Drachman Activists of Amestris. She had explained that they were a radical group that was all for Drachma. They had managed to squeeze their reasons for holding and torutirng he and Mustang: what wouldn't the military give, to get their pets back? Both he and Mustang were crowd favorites to the people of their nation), despite the horrors that they were put through and the sort of intimacy that should never happen between a commanding officer and his 14-year-old subordinate, things were back to normal.

No, normal wasn't quite the word, because Ed didn't think that he could ever look at Mustang again without remembering the tender kisses to his temple that had settled the building knot in his stomach and allowed him to sleep. Things never would be _normal_. But they'd improve. Soon, he would wake up and not experience a panic attack when he noticed that Mustang wasn't with him. He knew that, soon, the same would be for Mustang.

Each little check on the figurative checklist of their routine was like a promise. Like a kiss. And finally, for the first time ever, they'd done it without thinking. They'd completed their checklist.

* * *

There's #3. Again, sorry it was late. Oh well. Anyway, next week I'm gender-bending Ed again. Yea! _Daddy's Little Girl _is the chapter's title.

Until next time,

YAJJ


	4. Daddy's Little Girl

Flames of Power

**You guys, I entirely give up on this dumb schedule. I really do. I'm not a fan of it. I'm sorry this is so terribly late and blah blah blah... except that I'm not. I think that it turned out well. Hohenheim's part was a little off, and then ending went a bit quicker than it should have, but I like the way that it turned out, and I hope that you do, too.**

**This story is based roughly off of the song Daddy's Little Girl (mind=blown, amirite?) by Frankie J. I would recommend listening to that song, either before, during, or after reading this. I've listened to it a lot recently (especially in trying to capture the right elements for writing this story, but I don't think that I did it justice) and there's _still_ one part that makes me cry, thinking of losing my Daddy.**

**_QUICK QUESTION. IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ AND/OR ANSWER_: For my big story, a lot of Roy's trust comes from the nickname Chief. And I can't for the life of me remember it that is actually what Havoc called him, or if he called Ed that, or if Breda called him that... basically, I want to use Chief as a nickname, but only if it's legit. I wouldn't mind Boss, but Chief sounds loads better. :p Does anyone know if that's one of Mustang's nicknames?**

ONE-SHOT 04: Daddy's Little Girl

Summary: Moar of the gender-bended Edward stuff. Anyway, Edwina has had two fathers in her life. And how badly it hurts her to see them both go. Based off of the song Daddy's Little Girl by Frankie J.

Rating: K+ - T for curse words

BTW, I don't own Roy, Ed/Edwina, the song Daddy's Little Girl. Heck, I don't even own this computer that I'm writing on. None of it is mine.

* * *

She remembers the first time that her father left. She was young—very young at the time. She knows that she shouldn't have been out there since her mother and father were sharing an intimate moment right then, and they deserved the time to themselves.

But that didn't stop Al having to go potty. And she wasn't about to let _her_ little brother go out there all on his own. What if the monsters got him between the hallway and her parents? She couldn't just leave him.

So, like the good big sister that she was, she took her brother's hand and led him out into the hall.

She wasn't surprised to see her parents up at all. They were always up before she and Al. Her mom liked spending the morning until about eight in a robe, curled up in the big armchair with her favorite book, another few stacked beside her. Sometimes, if she spotted she or Al watching her, she'd invite them up, and she'd put down her book in favor of theirs.

But her dad also liked spending the morning in his pajamas. He liked lighting the fire place, grabbing some of his alchemy notes, and seating himself on the couch where he could study and still listen to Trisha read to their children.

So, why weren't they being normal? Sure, her mom was usual. Kind of. Her eyes were really wet when she looked at them in surprise, her smile was sad when she said, "and you brought your brother out here? You're such a good big sister."

She smiled at the innocent compliment, as she and Alphonse stared at their father.

Hohenheim didn't say a word to either of them. He hardly looked at them. He only nodded at Trisha and took hold of the door handle from where he was standing, in front of the solid oak door.

She stepped forward, past her mother, ad released Al. "…Daddy?" she asked curiously. Her foot caught and she stumbled forward, managing to catch hold on Hohenheim's pant leg. "Where you goin', Daddy?"

Hohenheim plucked her off of him. He looked up at Trisha, nodded, and opened the front door. He strode out of the door, closing it solidly behind him.

"D-Daddy?" asked Ed quietly, to the door. She looked up at her mother, who looked away from her as if she was ashamed. "Mama? Where's Daddy going?"

Trisha just puffed out a breath and crouched in front of her. "Honey, baby, Daddy has to go away. He won't be back for a while. But he will come back." She promised.

Though Edwina watched her mother, and wanted _so badly_ to believe her, even she, at the ripe age of four years, knew that her father wouldn't be coming home.

A few years later, tragedy struck. Trisha passed away. A few years after that, as if the household needed more tragedy, it struck yet again. A life-changing transmutation that threw Edwina and Alphonse into what they came to know as the Gate of Truth occurred in their basement in an attempt to get their mother back.

That faithful night, and that faithful day afterward, brought upon them two of the most important people in their lives, though perhaps they wouldn't realize so until years later. But starting from day 1, when Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang and Second Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye waltzed into their lives, Ed saw a strength that she wanted. From that day onward, she would strive to be like them. She would strive to be like the strong mother and father that they would eventually make themselves out to be.

* * *

She remembers the second time that her father left. She wasn't so young anymore-it had been twenty-two years since her real father had walked out on her. She knows that she shouldn't be there, because her new father needed to rest to get better, though no one thought that he would.

That wouldn't stop her from going there, to be right at his side before he passed on.

Edwina felt totally out of place here, in this place of death. Maybe because, for once, she wasn't a patient. She was visiting a patient, who wasn't Al after he'd finally gotten out of his armor.

No, because that was ten years ago, and there was no trace of Al's emaciation on his body. This time, it wasn't Alphonse.

"_He probably won't make it through the night. We've done everything that we can. If he was supposed to live—if he had the energy to live—he wouldn't be in this situation."_

Now, Ed was 26, had a husband with his arm around her waist supporting her, and faced the very real possibility that her surrogate father could die.

The nurse at the front counter smiled at them sadly. "Major General Mustang?" she guessed.

Ed swallowed the anxious lump in her throat and nodded heavily.

The nurse smiled again. She stepped out from behind the desk. "Follow me."

Ed tracked slowly after the woman. She really didn't need the nurse to lead her; she'd come to visit nearly every day. She could have walked her way to his room blindfolded.

"The cancer really hit him last night." The nurse started, glancing backwards at the troubled surrogate daughter. "He's not expected to see tomorrow. It'll be a miracle if he makes it to sunset.

Ed nodded again, solemn and hurting. She didn't want to think of that. She didn't want to think of the man's heart stopping, of the hospital staff coming in and covering him with a white sheet, as if he'd never done anything for them.

She didn't fail to notice the Ishbalan nurse, who stayed by him and helped him often. Ed knew that there was a kind of loyalty behind her actions, bred from all that he'd done—and hadn't been forced to do by higher-ups—for her people.

The nurse looked backward at her. "He's been asking to see you." She whispered.

"Is that why you called?" asked her husband Winter, squeezing her waist tightly.

"Partly. We've called his other staff members in, but we called you first." The nurse turned to the couple. She nodded to the room to her left.

Ed glanced in, winced, and looked away. She didn't want to see him dying, on that bed.

"You may stay as long as you like, but try not to wake him. If he has any chance, it'll be through lots of rest."

Winter smiled at her passively. He squeezsed Ed's waist again and slowly dragged her in.

Ed stumbled once, but then walked on her own. She slumped into the chair closest to his head, resting her flesh arms on the bed and laying her chin on her arms.

She watched the man sleep, somehow finding a comfort in his breathing. She shook her head at the man, and sniffed pathetically.

"…Ed?"

She turned to look at Winter. The automail engineer smiled reassuringly at her.

Her heart caught in her throat. Tears filled her eyes. She felt so miserable. Ten years ago, she wouldn't have felt this way. Seven years ago, she wouldn't have felt this way. Five years ago, maybe the smallest inkling of love had erupted in her heart. But now was the first time that she admitted it to herself. She loved Roy Mustang.

"It's funny…" she giggled deploringly, hiding the sad smile in her sleeve, "it's taken him almost dying for me to realize this."

"Realize what?" Winter asked quietly.

"That," she had meant to tell him. She meant to say that "I love him". She knew that he would understand, anyway. She _did _love him, but would never want to _be_ with him. Yuck, no. That felt too much like incest and pedophilia. Sure, she wasn't a child anymore, but besides the unhealthy glow, Roy didn't look that different from ten, fifteen years ago. It made her feel like she was still sixteen, when she looked at him and saw how he hadn't changed.

And she knew that Winter knew that Roy Mustang was incapable of taking another place in her heart—Roy _was_ her father, more than that bastard Hohenheim had ever been.

Her heart caught in her throat suddenly as she admitted that to herself. She couldn't take losing another father. It wasn't _fair_, dammit! "That I can't do this."

She stopped, covered her mouth as though she thought that she'd puke, and then ran out of the room. She heard Winter call out for her, but she didn't stop until she reached the waiting room.

"Edwina!"

She came to a halt at the voice, starting. She looked up.

There stood a woman who had very nearly taken her mother's place. She looked tired beyond belief, she looked as though she were one of the living dead. Her eyes were rimmed with red. But she still stood there, in civilian clothes, blonde hair a little unkempt, brown eyes sad and horribly, horribly wet.

"…Hawkeye…" It took Ed a moment to collect herself. She didn't want to look so pathetic, not in front of such a strong woman.

Riza smiled at her and held her arms out. That very nearly broke her.

She stalked forward, then jogged, and then practically dashed right into the woman's arms. Riza held her tight, whispering to her.

"I-I can't do this! It's not fair! Of everyone in the world, _why him_?!" she gasped into Riza's shoulder. "Me! Let it be me! I'll take his place if you just told me _how_…"

Riza rocked her a little, pulling her closer to her and further from the prying eyes of the surrounding patients."Shh, Eddie…You know he wouldn't want that…" she kissed Ed's forward, as though it was something that she did every day.

Ed sobbed and nodded, almost breaking Riza's heart.

"Honey, hush now…" Riza purred, her eyes becoming hopelessly wet once more. "He'll be in a better place soon…" God, how it hurts to say that, though… "He won't be hurting anymore… He'll be with Maes again, and your mother…"

"No! Make him stay!" Ed felt like a hopeless, needy little child, but she didn't care. She needed this; she needed her mother. But even more than that, she needed her _father_. She needed her dad.

Riza rested her chin on her head (relieved that Ed wasn't a midget anymore, otherwise how her neck would ache…). She rubbed her back gently.

It took several minutes for Ed to calm, and by that time, several of Mustang's staff were only feet away, offering as much support as they could.

Ed sniffed and pulled away from Riza. The young women stod there, silently supporting each other at the potential loss of a loved one.

Finally, a small voice coughed. The men shuffled over, each offering their condolences.

Riza smiled sadly at them. "Jean, Vato, Heymans, Kain… you heard."

The men nodded solemnly. "Do you think he'll pull through?" asked Jean hopelessly.

"I don't know. I pray that he will."

"He's strong. He'll do it. He's done it every other time," Kain said reassuringly, though both women knew that he didn't believe what he said.

Ed clenched her fists. She gnawed on the tip of her tongue in annoyance. She coughed then, realizing that she had left someone behind. She turned to go find her kind young husband, unbelievably relieved to find that he'd found his own way there. She didn't really want to go see Roy dying again. Not right then.

Winter dropped into a chair and Ed took the seat beside him, clutching his hand. She watched the others drift in around her, apparently also unwilling to see Roy's weakness. They waited patiently. Maybe for a nurse to come and say that Roy was either awake or dead. Maybe for something else.

It was Alphonse and his wife who came next, rather than a nurse. The two had much farther to go than the rest of them; Al lived in a town about a three hour's train ride from Central, which apparently didn't have too many trains that passed through. He was actually lucky that he'd arrived when he did. According to him, if the hospital had called 20 minutes later, he wouldn't be able to make it until the following Tuesday, when the next train was scheduled to come through.

His wife Mei was the little Xingese girl that had clung to Al ten years ago. She rubbed her swelling belly affectionately, four months into her first pregnancy.

Ed stood when she saw her brother and his wife. She offered Mei her seat kindly, rather choosing to drop into one beside Al.

"How is he?" Al pressed immediately, leaning forward on his knees.

Ed shrugged, scrubbing a hand through her wild bangs. "They don't…" she blew a heavy breath out of her nose. "They think he'll be gone before n-nightfall…" she muttered.

Al nodded, going over the information. He rubbed his face. "He's not improving?"

"He got worse last night. He's sleeping now."

"Why are we out here, then?"

Ed glanced his way. She bent over, breathing, "I couldn't stand to see him like that…"

"Oh. Oh… Ed, that's not the real him, you know..."

"Thanks, but I'd rather remember him strong." Ed murmured.

Al smiled a little. "I know. Me too. But I would rather see him before he's dead. It's one thing if you're away… if you didn't go to see him when you were in the other room, though…?"

Ed sniffled and shook her head. "Stop it. Dammit, Al, I _know_! I just… I _can't_…" she gasped feebly.

Al shuddered a breath. "Right. Sorry, sister…" he muddled deploringly.

Ed looked up when a hand touched her shoulder. A nurse stood there, smiling sadly. Ed's heart dropped.

"He woke up." For a second, that was all that she heard. _He woke up_. Roy was awake! "He's asking for you. Would you like to see him?" asked the kind nurse fondly.

"He's already asking for me?" Ed was astounded. Was she the first thing that had come to his mind? Secretly, she hoped so.

"The lot of you." Well, that worked, too. "We might have mentioned that you were all here…" she coughed into her fist and smiled sadly again. "He… really doesn't have much time left. If you want to see him, do it now."

Ed and Al both stiffened momentarily. They glanced at each other, and then at the others. "Ahh… yeah."

Roy was very weak when they all trudged into his room, but he still gave them the strongest smile that he could manage. His narrowed, glassy black eyes lighted a little. He shifted a small bit when he saw them. "C'mon, why all the long faces? It'll be alright. It's just a little stay. I'll be out by tomorrow."

Ed winced, feeling Winter's arm slide around her. 'Does he even know that he's dying? Or—' No, there was a kind of understanding behind his eyes. There was knowledge.

The man was speaking the truth. By midnight, he would be "out of there", in a much darker sense than any of them wished for.

Havoc attempted to brighten first. He smiled at his boss cheerfully. "We know, chief. But damn, look at you! A day? These guys must work miracles."

Roy nodded a little, glancing Ed's way. By the tone, Ed was reminded fiercely of Father Cornello. For a second, she wished that he could be here to fix Roy. As if any of his dumb miracles would work, that is. "Yeah…" Roy murmured dismissively. He brought a smile to his lips again, though, in spite of the situation. "They do."

Ed furrowed her eyebrows at the man. She gnawed on her lip nervously, watching the team as they watched their commander. She briefly wondered how they were supposed to go on without their commander. More importantly, she wondered how _she_ was expected to go on without her father. She'd done alright after her real father had left (alright, yeah right. Pssh. She'd nearly killed her brother!), so why was she so worried? She was an adult. Right?

_Because Hohenheim never meant this much to you. Not like Roy does_.

She coughed once, agreeing with her know-it-all inner self. It was true. Hohenheim stopped meaning anything to her when he'd plucked her from his leg and left. He meant even less when he came back and practically asked them to act like nothing had happened. To act as if he could ever try to take Roy's place.

She looked up when she felt eyes on her. Roy was watching her, his eyebrows furrowed not unlike her own. He smiled reassuringly at her. She started shaking, and tears filled her eyes. 'I'll never see that again…' She briefly felt proud that one of his last smiles had been saved for her, and then ashamed for thinking that way, and then disheartened because it was _true_.

'You're smiling your last smile, Dad…' she suddenly felt sick again. She almost wanted to flee, but she wouldn't do it this time. Not since he was awake. She cleared her throat, and muttered around the lump nestled there, "it's… it's been an honor."

A muffled agreement came around the room. No one had the heart to top her pathetic speech.

Roy's smile softened, as if he were surprised by her words. His eyes softened with it as he replied, "And it's been an honor working with all of you, as well." Though he said those words to the entire group, Ed couldn't help but notice that his strong gaze never once left her face.

The heart monitor started faltering. Ed blinked a tear down her cheek. She knew what that meant. 'This is it…' For a few brief seconds, she took comfort in the steadily slowing beep of the heart monitor, just as she had taken comfort in watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. She thought that it might hurt him, to feel his heart slowing like that, but no pain etched across his face. No physical pain. Only the pain of understanding.

Roy swallowed and leaned back against the bed. He looked across his men—his _family_—until his eyes landed on Ed. Roy Mustang's very last words were some of the most truthful things he'd ever spoken: "…I love you guys. I'll see you in the afterlife."

The men around her crumpled when Roy took his last breath. Though none of them showed the obvious signs of a broken team—sobs, anger, tears—they showed it in their own way. Jean lifted a hand to cover his eyes pathetically. Vato passed an anxious, shaking hand through his hair. Riza stood, as if she thought that maybe she could do something, and then sat.

Neither Edwina, nor Winter, nor Alphonse, nor Mei showed any signs of breaking, either. Though she wouldn't admit it, Edwina certainly _felt_ like breaking apart and dying right on the spot, but… thank the Gate that didn't happen.

Winter's arm encircled her waist and pulled her tight to him. She turned and nuzzled into his collarbone, wanting nothing more than to just nestle there and hide away from the rest of the world.

It took a few moments for the weight of the reality of the situation to fall upon them. Riza stood and promptly left, covering her mouth with one hand, clutching her stomach with the other. Her eyes were too wet. Jean stumbled out after her. Heymans just turned away from the body and looked instead to Kain, who struggled to keep his tears from falling.

Edwina started muttering nonsense into Winter's collarbone, not entirely certain of what she was saying. After a few moments, though, her words became all too clear: "I love you, Daddy…. I-I love you, too…"

Winter's arms tightened around her as she spoke those words. He held her tight to his breast when those sobs and words echoed from her against him.

"I l-love you, Daddy! Please, you _can't go_… Please come back, Daddy… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I never said it but I _love you_!" Edwina begged, looking backwards at the dead body. Her heart broke a million times in a million different places so she turned back to her husband.

She now knew that she would regret not saying it more. Had Roy died, not knowing? If he had, she'd have to come to his grave every day and say it, and even that may not be enough. She shook her head a little, feeling Alphonse's hand squeeze on her arm.

He had too, she knew. Alphonse had loved Roy like a father. But he was a _boy_, while she was a _girl_, and so he was far less inclined to show off his emotions like that. Even if he _was_ Alphonse.

Edwina muttered those words a few more times, to herself more than anything else, because Roy Mustang couldn't hear her pleas. She shuddered, feeling but at the same time not really noticing Winter shake her. She didn't even notice the steady beat of a weak heart.

It was Alphonse who managed to rouse her, rather than Winter. Alphonse shook her arm roughly, almost desperately. "Ed… sister! _Look_!" he hissed.

Edwina pulled from Winter's chest and looked at him. She was almost frightened—certainly very surprised—by his wide eyed look and the shaking finger that pointed limply at the bed.

She turned to see what had Alphonse so riled up. If not for Winter's arms still trapping her, she'd have fainted.

Narrow black eyes peered at her, dull and hazy from exhaustion but still all too _there_. They were holding her stare, a little bit widened themselves, probably from her frantic cries. The face they belonged to turned its lips up into what was supposed to be a smile that just couldn't happen.

But it _did_.

Roy Mustang, stronger than Edwina had seen him in ages despite his recent apparent death, smiled at her gently. He opened his mouth, coughed, and croaked, "I… heh, I guess that the G-Gate didn't want me… not quite yet…"

Her jaw dropped open a bit (she really only kept it as closed as it was by an act entirely brought upon by her sense of pride, otherwise it would be on the floor) and tears—tears of _joy_, though, this time; not sadness like they had just been—sprung to her eyes and started falling down her cheeks. Before she knew what she was doing and _long_ before her pride could stop her from doing it, she flung herself against the man that had effectively taken his place as her father, wrapping her arms around his neck. "R-Roy! Th-thought you were gonna die…!" she pouted at him.

Roy puffed and managed to slide one arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, Fullmetal… not yet."

Ed nodded slowly against her dad. She tightened her arms around him, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

How close she had come to it happening again, to losing her father. Roy really _was_ one of the greatest influences in her life. Somehow, he'd managed to weasel his way between the cracks in the ice surrounding her heart, in a way that she couldn't describe.

She shuddered and breathed a heavy breath on his chest, burrowing a little closer sweetly.

Then she paused, wondering if he'd heard. She _had_ to say it again, to him, just in case. What if this was only a freak accident? Sure, he'd been revived, but that wasn't to say that he was in the clear quite yet. She nuzzled her forehead against his chest, and muttered, "I love you, Roy." Suddenly, knowing that he could actually _hear it_ this time, she felt very self-conscious. More than anything, _what if he didn't say it back_? How _awkward_ would that be?

But how _worth it_ would it be, whether he said it or not? And why did she care in the first place? Dammit, she loved Roy Mustang, and she'd say it again!

She felt Roy chuckle, his breath blowing on the antenna that still stood straight. She was heartened by the words that he whispered to her, holding her close. "I know. I _heard_. I love you too, Edwina."

Edwina squeezed her eyes shut around the strong emotion welling up in her chest. She repeated it again and, if only for her sake, so did Roy.

The team must have sat there for over an hour, talking happily. Some were still upset at the death experience of their leader—that is to say, Riza, Jean, and Kain—and were unable to hide it. Riza shook in the chair right next to him, Jean continued glancing toward the heart monitor, and Kain cried silently. Edwina claimed her seat right on her father's bedside, kicking her feet as she faced her husband and brother. Not much caring one way or the other for pride, she had her pinky entwined in Roy's. Roy apparently didn't care for pride either, because he didn't once try to pull away.

Finally, one of the nurses had to shoo them all out, because visiting hours were supposedly over. (Ed thought that the nurses just wanted Roy to themselves. A foolish thought at first, but not so much when she remembered how he'd seduced the nurses the last time they'd all been in the hospital without even trying.)

Edwina's final words to him, as she leaned over and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and buried her nose into his collarbone, were something along the lines of, "I love you, Daddy, so don't go and die 'fore I can be here to save you again." Her words were muffled by his hospital shirt, and really only she and Roy could understand them.

Roy chuckled again. He tightened his weak arms around her and kissed her head softly. "I won't, little girl. I love you, too, Edwina." He smiled, burying his nose into her hair, "my little girl."

* * *

Erm... *cough* Yeah... So, that's what you've been waiting for! Well? Did it turn out well? I hope so!

Anyway, next _time_, the chapter will be about Roy and Hughes. It'll be called Of Best Friends and the Way of Things... I think. Something like that.

Please review! I like to know when I'm doing good... or just mediocre... and especially when I need to work on something. Please and thank you!

Until next time,

YAJJ


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